


Just Breathe Against the Glass, Leave Me Some Kind of Sign

by Jay Auris (nighthawkms)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, First Time, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Married Characters, Multi, OT3, Pining, Plenty of Newmann feels for those looking for that, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Threesome - F/M/M, they all bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 10:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15410697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighthawkms/pseuds/Jay%20Auris
Summary: Hermann stares down an impossible choice. Newt contemplates his future. Vanessa perceives the truth.(Or, 2 + 1 = 3).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written an OT3 fic in a while, but I'm genuinely proud of how this came out. I really hope that if you like Newmann, you'll give this a chance. OT3s can be magical and will solve all your problems and bring about world peace (okay, not really. but still, there's plenty of Newmann pining and fluff intermingled with the OT3 goodness and Vanessa appreciation. Why have a ship war when you can get everybody laid?)
> 
> Title of this fic comes from the song [Up](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29GWMT0GB6s) by Oily Murs and Demi Lovato, which was what I listened to the entire time I wrote and edited this fic.

Hermann meets Vanessa in his sophomore year of undergraduate college, at a mixer for the STEM departments. He's helping to pour punch after being wheedled by his favorite physics professor, who hinted that she'd write him a good graduate recommendation if he 'volunteered' to help out (his need for a recommendation is two years two early, but still, it's good to get a head start). He's mulishly ladling the drinks into Solo cups, regretting his attendance, when he hears someone with a lilting British accent (genuine, not his piss-poor attempt at one that will only become more outlandish over time) say, "I've never met a man with a vendetta against a punch bowl. Did it get red all over your favorite sweater?" He looks up to see a tall, dark-skinned woman, wearing a t-shirt with a bug-eyed, red-footed frog on it, eyeing him as if he's a particularly interesting specimen.

"I'm not particularly pleased to be here," Hermann says, holding out a cup.

"Ah, same as me, then. Want to commiserate over our shared suffering?" She smiles and takes the cup from him, her hands brushing against his for a second too long in a way that leaves him startled and curious. People don't tend to pay much attention to him.

"I'm pouring," Hermann says, motioning to the bowl. As if it wasn't obvious, as if he doesn't sound like a right prat.

"Quite right, can't trust these people to handle dangerous things like ladles themselves. Especially the biologists. Most scatter-brained lot I've ever met," the woman replies. Her sarcasm is teasing, light; he's in on the joke, rather than the target of it.

Hermann quirks an eyebrow, trying not to smile, not to be charmed. "And how do you know I'm not one of those scatter-brains?"

She grins. "You could be, but I'm taking the chance you're not. All the biologists I've met actually like these bloody mixers. I'm pretty sure they're the only ones who do."

Hermann does smile then. "You're correct. I'm in mathematics."

"Oh, a numbers man, fantastic," she says, holding her free hand out. "I'm Vanessa."

"Hermann," he replies, shaking it.

Vanessa is studying ecology, and he learns over the course of the evening that she has dreams of working in the Amazon rain forest, hoping to study the wildlife and fauna, and understand how the ecosystem as a whole functions. Her passion for conservation is evident in the way she can launch into a full-throated history of imperialist exploitation of natural lands, while also gushing over the general adorableness of spider monkeys, or the grand majesty of jaguars, and flip between both topics in a way that seems entirely organic. Hermann admires her passion and the intensity of her focus, which, twelve years later, should be a bright red warning signal about his feelings towards Newton Geiszler, but then, he's getting ahead of himself.

Nessa (as she prefers to be called) does some side modeling gigs to put herself through school, which Hermann only learns about when they begin dating. His lack of previous knowledge of that part of her life, as well as his appreciation of her intellect, is what she says convinces her to say yes to his fumbling, awkward request for a date (he does look up some of her photos after, because, well, he's not a saint, and she is a _very_  attractive woman, though he does let her know he'll be doing it first, which she says is adorably considerate of him). 

They marry four years out of college, soon after she attains her PhD. The wedding is a small affair, close family, his stodgy German relatives an oil-and-water match for her posh, hip Londoner ones, but several countries' distance means they rarely interact, and so rarely cause much of a headache (though his sister Karla does hit it off quite well with Nessa's cousin Freddie, and dates him for a time).

A year after that, Nessa is offered a field research position in South America. She moved with Hermann to Hong Kong when he joined the PPDC, and they haven't been apart for so long since they first began dating, but they make it work with video calls, texting, letters and occasional visits. After that position ends, she's back in his life for three months before another position begins. He knows he'll have to get used to the long periods of being alone. Her career is important to her, and he'd never deny her the long-held dreams of world travel and scientific study. But Nessa is the first person in his life who really seems to get him, and the loneliness without her bears down on him like a heavy weight.

Three years later, Newton Geiszler crashes right back into his life, and that's where all the trouble begins. Because Newt is as infuriating as he was during their brief meeting those four years before, except now Hermann can't escape him, and so is forced to consider him past the initial dislike. He's forced to work side by side with Newt, and the one-dimension perception of the man he'd created - as a boorish, loudmouthed idiot with too many tattoos and too little self-control - well, it's shattered. It gives way to a three-dimensional study, wherein Hermann comes to see how Newt covers for his insecurities with insults and false cheer. How he's far cleverer than Hermann initially gave him credit for; brilliant in fact, but he's not arrogant about it, just honest. How he's fiercely passionate about the Kaiju, and the need to understand their importance and effect on Earth's ecosystem, and how his tattoos are just an outward expression of that passion. How he loves a good intellectual argument, but only with people whom he believes are worth the effort, and can challenge him with their perspective, and Hermann apparently qualifies as one of those people.

Newt is a whirlwind that keeps sucking Hermann in, and Hermann is near horrified to discover how much he likes it, and despite all the yelling and childish bickering (of which Hermann is equally guilty), how much he likes _Newton_.

It's only when he reads back an email to Nessa describing a rather intense argument they've gotten into, how many uses of the phrase "brilliant idiot" are contained within, and how ends it with _I truly cannot imagine anything more perfect than hearing the words 'alright, I see your point' come out of that man's mouth, I'll be imagining that in my dreams tonight,_  that Hermann realizes he might have a problem. Newton has somehow managed to slip, unnoticed, into the well of loneliness and need for connection that's been present in Hermann's heart.

And, well, nothing can come of it. He has a wife! A wife he very dearly loves! And misses like hell.

Hermann stews over these thoughts until the next time Nessa comes home, then joyously throws himself into his relationship, spending as much time as he can with her, though never at the lab, and he never introduces her to Newt, or vice versa. _I'd rather not mix work and personal life_ , he tells them both, although that feels like a lie, No, it is a lie. He doesn't want Nessa catching onto what he pretends is simply a passing crush, and he doesn't want Newt asking questions about his love life.

He thought about the possibility that distance and time apart had made his love for Nessa weaken or fade, but it just isn't true. He loves her as dearly as he ever has. So, he doesn't understand where this sudden desire for another person is coming from, but Nessa shouldn't have to worry about his mixed up, muddled feelings. She shouldn't be burdened by his emotions confusedly latching onto Newt out of a sense of loneliness. So, he ignores it, and tries to continue on as they always have.

Six months later, and Nessa receives another offer. This time the position is a longer-term affair, an entire year in the field. By now time, it's mid-2024, and he lets her go, even though he's afraid that her going will only make the problem worse. His love for her hasn't faded, but neither has his fondness for Newt. In fact, it's only grown, even with Nessa by his side, and he doesn't understand why. Surely, his feelings for Newt are predicated on them being a substitute for his feelings for Nessa? The thought of his affection for the man as unconditional, wholly born of something genuine between them... It seems impossible. Yet he now finds himself with two aches in his heart of equal measure: one for the wife he's committed to who is half a world away, and one for the man he works side by side with yet cannot have.

And then they drift.

They drift, and Hermann feels a connection with another person like he's never experienced. It's not love, it's _symbiosis_. Hermann is flooded with thousands of flashes of Newt's memories, thoughts, and emotions. Far too many to understand as they flood and nestle into the pulses of his neurons; he'll be parsing through them for the rest of his life. Another whole mind inside of his own. Another person’s personality so deeply fused into his brain that they make sense in a way they never had before.

It terrifies him. Mostly because Hermann knows that there's a copy of his mind now inside of Newt, and that means a copy of the complicated emotional place Newt holds in Hermann's heart. It's just a matter of time before Newt realizes it.

Maybe that's why, with Newt's arm wrapped over his shoulder after the war, Hermann says to him, "you should come and meet Nessa when she gets back from Peru." Because he needs Newt to understand the life Hermann has, the love he feels for his wife, and how precious it is to him, and how he can't lose it.

Newt must be made to understand that, whatever feelings Hermann has for him, losing Nessa would destroy him.

(He can't lose Newt either. Newt is just as precious. Losing Newt would destroy him, just as badly. He just doesn't know how to deal with that.)


	2. Chapter 2

"Did her flight land yet? Come on, dude, check your phone. See if she's texted you."

Hermann stubbornly refuses to remove his mobile from his pocket, glaring out the windshield into the pounding rainstorm outside Hong Kong International Airport. Newt is making anxious drumming noises on the top of the dash in time with the rain's tempo, and Hermann itches to yank his hands away, get him to sit still, as if that were even possible. The man is the human personification of a Border Collie, endlessly energetic and in need of a way to channel it.

"She'll call when she's about to come outside," Hermann says. "I know my wife, Newton. She doesn't respond until she needs us to be ready."

"I'm so fucking excited. You never let me into your personal shit and now I get to meet the famous, she-of-little-information-given Vanessa Gottlieb? This is like, my goddamn Christmas and Hanukkah wrapped into one. Should I crawl into the back seat? Let you guys have a moment? I guess you can make out if she leans over the arm rest. That's rude though, right? Making your wife lean over the armrest to kiss the husband she hasn't seen in person in over a year. Plus, her back might be killing her from the flight. I should climb in the back. Yeah, I'm gonna do it."

Hermann grabs Newt's collar as he moves to throw himself bodily into the back seat.

"Stop it," Hermann says, yanking him back into the passenger seat. "You need to calm down. Pretend you have a modicum of control over yourself. I know your third-grade teacher told you that you were a special little boy who shouldn't let anyone make you feel bad for being yourself, but I'm here to let you know that it isn't true. Being yourself at this moment is going to make me throw you out of this bloody car."

"It's fucking weird when you do that," Newt says, shoving Hermann in the shoulder.

"When I do what?"

"Say shit about my life that I know I've never actually told you. Here, I'll do it. Umm... when you were five you very badly wanted a pet otter because of a book you read about a woman who runs a rescue for them. Karla had to sit you down and gently explain to you that it just wasn't gonna happen."

Hermann's face squishes, eyes, mouth, all of it tightening into thin small lines.

"See!" Newt says, shooting out an accusing index finger. "I fucking told you! It's weird, right? Though a little kindergarten Hermann begging his mom for an otter is kind of adorable. I totally get it, they're all soft and have those big eyes and paws. I think I had a plush toy of one when I was a kid. Oh, I know what I'm getting you for your next birthday!"

"I am thirty-six years old, Newton!" Hermann sputters, feeling his face heat up, either in outrage or embarrassment. Possibly both, it's usually both when it comes to dealing with Newt. "That is not a present you get your thirty-six-year-old lab partner!"

"Firstly," Newt says, holding up a finger. "We're technically not lab partners anymore, as of, oh, two weeks and eighteen hours ago? Secondly, if I haven't graduated positions from 'lab partner' to 'friend' at this point then I'm going to punch you, like, right in the mouth."

"Quite a thing for a so-called 'friend' to threaten," Hermann quips.

"That is _exactly_  something a friend would say. If you had any besides me, you would know that."

"I have plenty of-"

"I have your brain!" Newt says, poking Hermann in the shoulder. "In my head! Every memory I've seen so far is either of your family, the lovely Missus Dr. Gottlieb, or myself. So, what's that tell you?"

 _It tells me I have no friends and I'm horribly in love with you_ , Hermann thinks, but doesn't say.

Instead, he says, "I think that's my phone."

A cheery, muffled chip-tune version of some song from a video game Nessa likes, and by extension, Hermann has come to like, rings in his pocket. Hermann pulls the phone out as Newt's mouth pops open, his eyes widening into two great moons. "Is that- why is your ringtone a song from fucking _Final Fantasy Twelve?_ "

Hermann shrugs. "Nessa very much liked the rabbit woman. I can never remember her name..."

"Fran?"

"Yes, that's it. There's a topic you can bond over: your mutual love of - and childhood years playing - video games. I'll finally have some relief from both your nattering on about them."

Newt clutches his chest, grinning like he's just won another prestigious award to add to his collection. "Jesus, I think I'm going to legitimately fall in love with your wife, dude. She's smart, hot, and a nerd? Fuck, I gotta spend some more time diving into your memories. I was planning on going chronologically, so I've only gotten up to, like, you at thirteen."

Well, that's a relief to hear. If Newt has been proceeding in just such a manner, then Hermann still has time to impress upon him how serious it is that he not doing anything about Hermann's untoward emotions (in contrast to Newt's chronological cataloging, Hermann has been avoiding Newt's memories other than when they come to him in brief, unbidden flashes, and his dreams. He's afraid that by examining them, he'll gain a greater understanding of the man, and thus, will further cement the doomed nature of his feelings about Newt).

Hermann rolls his eyes quite noticeably as he answers the phone. "Nessa?"

"Open the bloody car door, Hermann!" she shouts into his ear. He can hear the crashing rain behind her voice in the tinny speakers. "I'm making a run for it!"

She must be yelling loud enough for Newt to hear, because all of a sudden, he throws himself over the arm rest, flailing for the door handle, and Hermann yelps as Newt's knees bang against his chest.

"Just get in the back, you idiot!" Hermann shouts, shoving him the rest of the way over.

Newt lands on the back seat in a heap, and tugs the handle, pushing the door open.

A bag flies over the opening from the back seat into the trunk. Then Hermann sees a figure slide into the back in his rear mirror. He twists around.

Vanessa grins back at him. She's dripping rainwater, her hair pinned under a headscarf, wearing a faded t-shirt and baggy jeans, no makeup or any jewelry, because she's a sensible woman, and no one gets dressed up to take an international flight unless they're in business or politics. Hermann thinks she's the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen, and his chest instantly bursts with happiness at seeing her again after a year.

"Nessa," Hermann says, smiling.

"Hello, Hermann, dear," she responds, leaning forward and kissing him. He bites back a moan, cognizant that they're very much not alone.

When he pulls back, Newt is pressed into the corner of the back seat, looking back and forth between them.

"Holy shit," Newt says, holding a hand out. "Uh, hi. Newt. Yeah. I'm Newt."

Nessa chuckles and takes his hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Newt. I've heard loads."

"You have?" Newt startles. "What the hell, dude? You tell her about me but you won't tell me about her?"

"Well, now I'm quite happy I didn't, what with your saying thirty seconds ago you could fall in love with her," Hermann jokes. The humor twists in his gut, another reminder of his 'problem.'

Nessa raises an eyebrow, and Newt's hands flail back and forth, his head shaking rapidly.

"I meant it in a totally platonic, wanting-to-get-to-know-my-best-friend's-wife sort of way!" Newt yelps, looking very much guilty and like he very much hopes he hasn't ruined his first impression.

"Best friend?" Nessa asks. Of course she picks up on that. Of course.

 _Brilliant woman, how I love you_ , Hermann thinks.

"I- er, I mean-" Newt begins, now flailing verbally just as much as he does physically.

"No, it makes sense," Nessa continues, smiling and winking at Hermann. "I told you, I've heard loads. You spent so many years together, and you're the only one he's ever bothered to regularly write me about."

Newt's eyes whip over to Hermann, gaze suspicious and questioning. Hermann can see the gears turning in his obnoxiously quick-witted brain, and this isn't a conversation Hermann is willing to engage with, so he quickly turns back around and shifts the car into drive.

"Back to the apartment, shall we?" Hermann says, taking his foot off the clutch and jerking them into first gear. "Yes, I'm glad we're all in agreement!"

Nessa and Newt chat amicably in the back seat as Hermann drives. He's glad to not have to speak, glad that Nessa finds conversations with new people as natural as breathing, and glad for Newt's curiosity getting the better of him. As Nessa gives Newt a crash course in their romantic history, Hermann focuses on the road, and not the nervous twisting in his gut that's been slowly building over the course of the day, upon waking up and knowing that today, his two most important people would be meeting one another.

Even if Hermann didn't have this terrible secret, he'd be nervous. But the secret compounds what should be a normal concern about two people he cares for getting along into astronomical, sky high levels of anxiety. Newt's brain is a ticking time bomb, and knowing how he is, he's liable to just spout out any brilliant revelations he figures out about Hermann's feelings without thinking through the consequences. Which is why this evening is Hermann's chance to impress upon Newt how very, _very_  bad it would be if he were to reveal Hermann's secret to Vanessa. If he can just show Newt that his wife is a wonderful, lovely person who doesn't deserve to be hurt by her husband's greedy, wayward heart that's cursed him to fall in love with two people, then perhaps Newt will be sensible enough to leave well enough alone.

It's a horrible plan. But it's the only one he's got.

"-the Amazon?" Newt is saying, and Hermann can see his mouth gaping wide in the rear-view. "You're shitting me. He just told me you were always busy on the job, but he didn't say what it was. Hermann Gottlieb, you're a fucker, keeping your amazing ecologist wife hidden from me for five goddamn years. She's a female version of me! Or, er, maybe I'm a male version of you, not to be sexist," he says, grinning and winking at Nessa.

Nessa laughs. "Not to be sexist, indeed. So, do you agree, dear? Are we that much alike?"

Hermann grumbles. "Certainly not. I can list a myriad of ways in which you are quite different, starting with the most obvious and then moving on to the subtler nuances of-"

"That's a yes," Nessa interrupts him. "He just doesn't want to admit it, so he's obfuscating."

"Oh, she gets you so well, dude," Newt says, nudging Hermann's shoulder. "No wonder you married her."

"I suppose I'm just lucky that I met him first and not you!" Nessa says, winking.

Hermann's foot hits the clutch so hard, he nearly skids on the wet concrete.

"Sorry, sorry!" Hermann says, seeing both Nessa and Newt jerk forward. He's blushing furiously and prays to a god he doesn't really know if he believes in that they can't see him. That comment hit far too close to home.

" _Ahaha_ , that was a joke, wasn't it!" Newt says, a little loudly. "Yeah, uh, I guess so."

He catches Hermann's eye in the rear view, suspiciously pink-faced himself, and Hermann goes all squinty again. Something's off. Newt is never fazed by innuendo. Does he know? Oh god, _does he know?_

Nessa raises an eyebrow, which is entirely reasonable, what with the sudden tension in the air, so Hermann quickly turns on the radio, which instantly gets Newt going about the right station to play, and it's an argument they can all have for the next five minutes. Something that isn't to do with Hermann's relationships, or his slowly devolving sanity.

When they park outside the apartment, Hermann tosses an umbrella at Newt's head and tells him he's in charge of keeping Nessa dry on the twenty-foot walk to the apartment, while Hermann gets her suitcase. This leads to a different argument about Hermann having to carry luggage in the rain and slippery mud, and his using a cane, and anyway, shouldn't he be the one escorting his wife while Newt gets the luggage? Eventually, Nessa snatches the umbrella, calls them both tossers, and gets out, saying they can fight over the bag, but she's "going inside where it's bloody warm, for god's sake!" This leaves Newt free to snatch the bag from out of the trunk, stick his tongue out at Hermann, and flee from the car.

Hermann sighs and turns off the engine, hurrying through the rain to the front stoop. Nessa has her own set of keys, so he enters the living room to see her stripping off her coat and draping it over the armchair near the door, Newt already plopped on the couch, with his wet leather jacket soaking the fabric.

"Haven't I asked you a thousand times to consider my upholstery?" Hermann says, smacking Newt's legs with his cane where they rest on the coffee table. "At least take the bloody boots off before you track mud."

"He's over a lot, then?" Nessa asks. "If it's a thousand times you've asked him. That's certainly changed since last year."

"The heating in my place has been wonky all winter," Newt explains. "He's been letting me crash on the couch, so I don't turn into a Popsicle."

"The world depended on your not dying of hypothermia," Hermann says. "Just another sacrifice I made for the good of mankind."

Newt throws a boot at his head. Hermann catches it, surprising even himself.

"Throw the other one and you'll be walking back to your place shoeless tonight," Hermann says, smirking and shaking the boot in the air. "Now, didn't you promise me something?"

"What? Oh, shit, right," Newt says, kicking off the other boot and jumping up. "You bought everything I need, right? No substitutions?"

"The market had everything you required," Hermann replies. "It's all in the kitchen."

"You're cooking?" Nessa asks, slipping out of her sandals. "I feel blessed, I've heard soliloquies about your food."

"Really?" Newt says, and Hermann wants to wipe that cocky, shit-eating grin off his face. "I knew it, you bastard! You're always like, 'oh, this is quite adequate,' or, 'oh, could use a touch more salt,'" Newt says, doing his best Hermann impression, which is rather more nasally than he knows he sounds. "So, what exactly did he say about my cooking?"

"I believe he once described one of your cheesecakes as 'an exquisitely luscious symphony,'" Nessa replies. "I know he's serious when he describes things using musical metaphors."

"Oh, you've noticed that too?" Newt says. "It's pretty adorable, watching him try to describe an equation by likening it to a Mozart concerto."

Nessa nods. "I remember when he was proposing to me, he said something about my being like an operetta written just for him."

"Huh. That's pretty sweet, actually. I'd have fallen for that, and I'm a sucker for that kind of schmaltzy bullshit."

"If you're both _done?_ " Hermann snaps, feeling quite odd. The two people who know him best, and now they're in the same space, and talking about him? Dreadful, absolutely horrid. He certainly isn't pleased about the fond looks they're both giving him, or that they seem to be getting along swimmingly, trading easy banter and acting like old friends. Certainly not.

"We're embarrassing him. Apologies, dear man," Nessa says, pecking Hermann on the cheek. "Could you come into the bedroom with me? I'd like your help unpacking some things."

Hermann waves Newt off to the kitchen and picks up Nessa's bag, following her into their room. He's surprised when she shuts the door, and when he sets her bag down on the bed, she steps up to him, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him, hard and deep. He gives a little shudder and clutches her waist, groaning happily. Oh, it's been far too long. Her hand trails down to cup a particular bit of his anatomy, and he lets out a little gasp, definitely eager but rather shocked.

"Nessa," he mutters, "while I'm certainly pleased to see you, we have a guest..."

"I know," she says, pulling back and smiling. "I just needed to make sure of something."

"What's that?" he asks, voice teasing. "Making sure it's still working?"

She giggles and pecks him on the cheek. "Sort of. Making sure it's still working for _me_."

"I, ah, what?" Hermann says. He's so thrown off that he lets go of her waist and steps back a bit. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Calm yourself, darling," Nessa says, patting the bed. "We need to have a chat. Nothing dire, I promise. I need to make that clear, with what I'm about to ask you."

"Alright..." Hermann says, and even though she's said it's not dire, his stomach instantly flies into his throat, and his heart starts ramping up its rate. What could they need to discuss in private, not in front of Newt? He sits down next to her, and she hooks an arm about his waist, tugging him to press against her side. "So... what do you need to ask?"

"Something I should've asked quite a long time ago, but tonight only confirms what I've suspected," Nessa says.

Then she cups his cheek, her thumb stroking his jaw, and he swears he's not psychic, and they've never drifted, but he knows what she's going to ask the moment before she opens her mouth.

"Are you in love with Newt?" Nessa asks.

Time freezes, just like the air in his throat. The protestations die on his lips before they ever make it out. He is a fool to think he could've ever kept this from her, not now, not after the drift, not after her meeting Newt, seeing them interact, knowing him far too well.

"Yes," he breathes out, closing his eyes. He's done for, he can see it all now: her furious tears, walking out on him, the divorce papers. Newt asking what happened, finding out, his shock and disgust. Everything he cares for, gone.

"Thought so," Nessa says.

And then she kisses him.

Hermann yanks his head back, sputtering incoherently, unable to process what's going on. "What- what are you-"

"Hermann, dear, calm down," Nessa says, petting the back of his head. "It's alright. Whatever you think I'm about to say, whatever you think I'm feeling right now, I can almost certainly guarantee that you're wrong."

"I don't understand," Hermann says. "I don't- aren't you angry with me? Furious? Hurt and betrayed?"

Nessa shrugs her shoulders, as if he's merely asked her whether she'd like a cup of tea.

"No," she says. "Quite frankly, I can see the appeal."

"You- you _what_?" Hermann almost shrieks, though he catches himself when he realizes Newt would hear him.

"He's quite an adorable mess of a man, isn't he?" Nessa says, tapping a finger against her lip, eyes turned heavenward, contemplative. "Intelligent, inquisitive, smart-mouthed. Quite attractive too, definitely your type. Come now, dear, you think I don't see our similarities? He wasn't wrong in the car. He's enough like me to make it obvious why you've fallen for him. Though thankfully, not enough to turn me off it."

"Off _what_?" Hermann asks, completely unable to process what he's hearing, or Nessa's seeming unflappability at his confession.

"Off shagging him," Nessa says. "Of course."

Hermann feels as if he is going to faint. He takes the smarter option and simply lies back on the bed, covering his eyes, hoping that he's simply dreaming, that he's going to wake up tomorrow and the world will have righted itself to something that makes _sense_ , not this ur-reality where his wife has just offered to let him shag his lab partner.

"You know," Nessa says, "I assumed you'd be happy."

"Deliriously so," Hermann says. He does mean it, though it's taking him quite a while to feel it. "Just too confused to express my joy."

"Here's the thing, Hermann, you're ridiculously transparent when it comes to your emotions. At least, to me, you are," Nessa says, sliding over to straddle him. She reaches up and begins unwrapping her headscarf, revealing the short, neatly trimmed natural look she's sporting, much different than the dreadlocks she'd left with last year; _upkeep in the jungle is too much of a bitch_ , she'd told him in one of her emails. "You work him into conversations constantly, you've kept me so abreast of his research that I could practically consult - not because you find _it_  very fascinating, but because you find _him_  very fascinating - and watching you interact with him tonight, the way you look at him... well, I'd be daft not to see it. You love him."

"I love _you_ ," Hermann insists.

"I know, dear. Never doubted it." She smiles, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He breathes in, smelling her missed-too-long, yet familiar scent, and he aches for her so badly. "Your mistake is believing that your loving me means you can't love him too."

"Nessa..."

"Hermann. Listen to me. I'm a twenty-first century sort of woman. I wouldn't have even brought this up if I wasn't alright with it, because I know you, and I suspect that, given the choice between keeping a happy marriage and ruining it to pursue someone you aren't even sure feels the same way, you'll stick with the safe option. Am I correct?"

"You... are correct," Hermann sighs. "As usual."

She beams at him, patting his cheek. "Now then. I do also suspect he feels similarly, but we need to confirm it."

"No!" Hermann yelps, loudly this time, and he hopes Newt doesn't investigate. "No, I- I can't, Nessa. What if... what if he doesn't feel the same? What if he's so horrified and disgusted he runs out the door and I never see him again?"

"Do you really think he'd abandon you like that?" she asks. "You're the one who bloody drifted with him. Tell me, you know that he cares about you at least, don't you?"

Hermann thinks back to the arm around his shoulder, the happy, warm smile directed at him, and then farther back, to their eyes meeting across the wind-whipped streets of Hong Kong, Newt's half-stuttered "for me? I mean, with me?" and the way his voice sounded so unsure and yet so wanting.

"Yes," Hermann says, turning his head to brush his lips against her hand. "He does."

"Then he's not going to up and leave," Nessa insists. "So, I've got an idea brewing about how to go about this. Want to hear it?"

"Why not?" Hermann replies, sighing. "The night can't possibly get any more awkward."


	3. Chapter 3

While Hermann and Nessa have a heart to heart in their bedroom, Newt is in the kitchen, stirring a pot of bubbling broth. He tries to focus on thinking three steps ahead for meal prep, but his concentration is marred by the fact that he knows Hermann and Vanessa are talking about something, voices too low to be audible, but loud enough for Newt to catch the serious tone.

Newt worries they're talking about him. Worse, he's worried they're talking because they _know_ , and he's about to lose everything.

Hermann hasn't mentioned it. Hasn't even implied it, and judging by his reaction in the car, he'd be none too pleased if he knew. But maybe he does? Or maybe Vanessa figured it out. She's definitely smart, definitely clever. Newt swears she looked right at him and read it all on his face. But they haven't kicked him out yet, that's a good thing, right? Maybe they don't know. Or, maybe they do, and Vanessa is coaching Hermann on the best way to throw him out on his ass. Fuck, Newt can't fight a guy with a cane, that's like, a thousand negative karma points. And he especially can't do it to Hermann. The thought of fighting Hermann makes his stomach recoil.

Now, doing _other_  things to Hermann...

 _Stop it, Newt_ , he thinks. _Don't make it worse than it already is. Isn't it bad enough that you're in love with a married man? Now you want to go and fantasize about him?_

It had all come to a head six months ago, and all over Hermann laughing at one of Newt's stupid, dumb jokes that wasn't even particularly funny, But Hermann's face had lit up, and his teeth had bitten into his lower lip to muffle the sound, and his eyes had crinkled to show the little wrinkles at the edge, and Newt had realized that he'd fallen hard, metaphorically cracked his skull open on the step and given himself a case of a love concussion. Or perhaps literally cracked, since he must be out of his mind to be in love with Hermann Gottlieb.

Why? How? _Why?_  When? And again, _WHY?_  were all pertinent questions, most of which Newt has answers to by this point. The how is spending nearly every waking moment with the man for the last five years. The when is, well, he's already explained when he realized it, but it had probably going on for years at that point. And the why... The why is obvious. Because this is Hermann fucking Gottlieb we're talking about: the Watson to his Sherlock, the Lindsay Buckingham to his Stevie Nicks, the... the Hermann fucking Gottlieb to his Newton Geiszler. They are a personality yin and yang, an intellectual kismet, correcting the worst of each other's impulses, supporting the best of them, challenging each other’s' occasional intellectual stagnation, bickering endlessly but always out of a mutual desire to get to the truth (and, alright, a bit of healthy competition, nothing wrong with that).

So, it's not exactly a surprise to Newt that this is the type of guy he falls in love with. Horrifying, yes, because again, Hermann is _married_  and _in love with someone else_  and Newt is not a homewrecker. His parents' nonexistent relationship continues paying dividends, making him unwilling to destroy anything good and pure, and of the little Hermann has revealed of his marriage, it certainly seems to fit that mold.

Still, it's not surprising.

Upon realizing he was in love with Hermann, Newt made two very purposeful decisions. One, he would just have to stop it. Just, straight up, find a way to fall out of love with the guy. And two, he would have to ensure that Hermann never found out. Oh, Newt couldn't handle that, was terrified of that one. If Hermann found out... he'd probably laugh, or become enraged, or simply abandon Newt altogether. Newt couldn't risk that.

So, he put 'Operation Fall Out of Love with Hermann' into effect. He began by listing all the man's flaws: his awful fashion sense, his dorky hairstyle, his pedantic need to over correct the slightest grammatical error, his tetchy moods, his hard-on for numbers at the expense of genuine human interaction. He tried to focus on these flaws when he was around Hermann, except somehow, they began to become endearing? Yes, the man can't dress well, looks like he stepped into the closet of an aging geriatric and picked out whatever happened to fall onto his head. And yes, his flop-top undercut screams of a 1950s Alan Turing wannabe. But both those traits are his own sort of Hermann-esque, unique style that fits his personality, more concerned with understanding the universe than being flashy or fashionable, a testament to living true to himself. And yes, he's pedantic and entirely work focused, but so is Newt in some ways, like his constant need to dispel any bullshit myths about the workings of Kaiju anatomy or 1980s metal bands. They both hold a deep love of their subject matters, and there's an overwhelming need to discover buried under their respective pedantries. That driven focus is what makes them pair so well.

So, with stage one an abject failure, Newt turned to stage two: nuking their relationship from orbit through unnecessary conflict.

He started going off about the slightest intellectual differences, blowing them up to an over-exaggerated proportion, peppering in petty insults and dredging up things long since settled. That served to keep Hermann constantly aggravated by him, which helped, but it was a hard thing to keep up, this forced conflict. Newt found himself disagreeing when he wanted to agree, walking out when he wanted to stay, snarling when he wanted to laugh. And the flashes of hurt he saw on Hermann's expression, the confusion, the questioning _why?_  that Newt couldn't answer, it ate at him. He wasn't really that much of an asshole, and never that much to Hermann, despite their differences.

One night, Hermann yelled at him, "I don't understand, why have you become like this? What did I do to you to get you to hate me so much?"

And Newt replied, "your problem is thinking I ever liked you that much!"

But it was such an obvious lie that it stopped them both in their tracks.

Newt fled the room before Hermann could start digging into that thorny falsehood, and afterwards, he seemed merely resigned to the idea that Newt was going to be like this for a while, and he'd just have to wait it out. Which pissed Newt off, because damn Hermann for knowing Newt so well. Damn him for being the exact sort of person Newt needed. And fuck him especially for being so... so fucking easy for Newt to fall in love with.

Newt was still valiantly making effort and headway into causing their relationship to crash and burn in a fiery explosion when Beckett showed up at the Shatterdome. The whole 'strap-your-brain-to-a-Kaiju' thing might have been a _leeetle_  bit spiteful, which he admitted to in his voice recording, although not for the reasons Hermann might think. "You made me do this," Newt had said, and the message underlying was: _you put me into an impossible situation, and I'm going to have to literally risk my life, both to save the world, and to make you realize how much of a fuck-up I am and not worth the energy you keep spending to try and stay in my life_.

It didn't work. Well, the 'drifting-to-find-out-how-to-save-the-world' thing, that part worked. But the 'make-Hermann-drop-my-reckless-ass' part, it abjectly failed. Newt understood that when Hermann looked at him with a crinkly-eyed smile, and a fondness that made Newt realize he would never get Hermann Gottlieb out of his heart.

So, he gave up. He gave in. And they drifted.

And now, part of Newt is literally inside Hermann's brain, and he doesn't know whether the whole 'I-love-you-so-very-much-and-it's-literally-destroying-me-that-I-can't-have-you' business is included in the metaphorical file of Newt's most secret vulnerabilities that he's let Hermann have.

Which brings him back to the present moment, stirring broth and trying not to slide out of his body into a nervous flop-sweat puddle on the floor.

Hermann yells "No!" and Newt cringes, desperately curious as to what Hermann is yelping about. They've been in the bedroom for like, ten minutes. Okay, maybe he's exaggerating, but it feels like a long time.

Maybe they're plotting. Maybe he's going to present a gorgeous meal and watch as Vanessa politely smiles at him over her wine and then tells him he's no longer welcome in their home, or their life, before slamming the door in his face. And to be honest, he wouldn't even be mad at her for it. It's not Vanessa's fault that Newt is so very much fucked up as to fall for a married man. Newt likes her so much, likes her wit and sass and personality, likes how suitable she is for Hermann, how fond he seems of her. He feels like, if he wasn't such a love-sick idiot, he could become very close with her. She's also, like, super hot, and okay, so maybe he's a little jealous that two hot people get each other, and Newt gets nothing (and yes, Hermann is hot, Hermann is sexy, he will fight anybody over that idea, he understands bone structure and can see the man is built, even under his stuffy sweaters). Maybe he's just a little heartbroken that he's going to have to sit with them and pretend nothing is wrong, and even if he doesn't get kicked out, he'll have to leave and know that the second he steps out the door, they'll be all over each other, having hot, married people sex that Newt gets no part of.

Newt can feel a blooming pain in his chest, a catch in his throat, a dampness to his eyes. He wipes them, cursing at his stupid, stupid, fickle heart. He puts the spoon down, staring into the broth.

He can't do this. He can't just sit with them and pretend everything is okay, watch them making googly eyes at each other, while Newt third-wheels it in the corner. The food is mostly done, anyway. He'll just leave a note and let them get on with their sappy, _and-they-lived-happily-ever-after!_ reunification.

Newt goes into the living room and picks up his coat, shucking it over his shoulders. He's nudging on his boots when the bedroom door opens.

Hermann looks a bit pale coming through the doorway, though Vanessa looks quite chipper. Newt can guess at what's happened: Hermann has just been informed of his awful crush, and now he's working up the courage to toss Newt out of his apartment. Well, Newt is three steps ahead of him, so no need.

"What are you doing?" Hermann asks. "Newton?"

"Food's done," Newt says, dropping his eyes down to his boot, trying to hurriedly squash his foot down into it, and watching as the lip gets trapped underneath his toes. "Figured I'd let you both catch up and get out of your way."

"You're- you're _leaving_?" Hermann says. The inflection of his last word makes Newt pause, glance up, because he swears it sounded like... but no, it couldn't have been sadness. Impossible. Newt's just deluding himself.

Newt shrugs and looks back down, saying nothing. He hears footsteps padding towards him, a bit surprised to see brown, slender toes come into sight, and feel gentle hands rest on his shoulders. He looks up again.

"Newt, we'd very much like you to stay," Vanessa says. "I've hardly met you, and Hermann would be very much distressed to see you go without partaking of what you've made us. Please?"

She looks so genuine. Newt gets it now, gets what Hermann sees in her. They barely know each other, but she's somehow making Newt feel like he's the most important person in the room, like she'd be truly devastated if he left at that moment. He bets that's how she makes Hermann feel all the time. God, what a lucky bastard. Newt could never imagine saying no to her. So, he nods and slides his foot back out of the boot.

Hermann visibly relaxes as Newt slides his coat back off, and he seems happy, coloring returning to normal, smiling over his wife's shoulder. Newt smiles back at him but feels a twinge of heart-break when Vanessa glances over her shoulder and returns Hermann's smile. Of course, it was directed at her. Newt never gets anything he truly wants. It's just like Vanessa said: they're doing him the consideration of letting him eat the food he made for them. That's all.

They sit down at the table. Newt had set their dishes out, bowls and spoons and forks and skewers, and now he places the bubbling broth in the center, thinly sliced meats and vegetables on a platter beside it.

"Hot pot," Newt announces, taking the seat perpendicular to the couple. "Figured it'd be nice and warm, and Hermann said you like authentic Chinese."

Vanessa smiles at him. Oh, that's... pretty fucking awesome to have directed at him. It's just, she's so pretty and Newt's an equal opportunity kind of guy. He can't help but grin back.

"How thoughtful," Vanessa says, patting Newt's hand. "Isn't he, Hermann?"

"Occasionally he shows flashes of consideration," Hermann replies, glancing quickly at Newt, and then back to the pot. There's a nervous tremor to the way he picks up his skewer and drops a thin slice of beef into the broth. "About as often as his flashes of true genius, few enough where I can remember most of them."

"Hey!" Newt says, "I cooked you dinner, asshole! Hell, I've cooked you dinner at least twice a week for the last month!"

"Your definition of consideration is occasional meal prep?" Hermann replies, eyebrow quirking high into his hairline. "Shall we talk about your propensity for line-crossing, throwing Kaiju organs at my head, and blasting your horrible, garbage music for hours on end?"

"It's part of my zany, punk rebel attitude," Newt says, dropping a handful of vegetables into the pot. "And besides, you get all zippy with excitement when you get to yell about my line-crossing, _and_ you throw the parts right back at me now, _and_ I've seen you secretly muttering along to all my Metallica songs. You like it all, you dirty hypocrite."

Vanessa laughs, startling them both. She points an accusing finger at Hermann. "I bet he's right," she says. "Don't lie to your wife, Hermann. Is he right?"

Hermann mutters something about them conspiring against him, and he turns this pretty shade of pink that has Newt averting his eyes because it's too lovely to look at, while Vanessa keeps laughing with a high, mirthful delight in her voice.

They lift the meats and vegetables out of the pot when they're finished cooking, and Newt eats them straight from the skewer while Vanessa grills him for more information about his life. He finds it easy to answer her, much easier to talk about himself than he first found it with Hermann. Maybe it's their differing personalities, her openness and warmth a contrast to Hermann's initial coldness and distance.

Newt manages to avoid most anything related to his love life for quite a while, but inevitably, it's going to come up.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" Vanessa asks.

Newt hears Hermann choke on whatever he's eating, and Newt shoots him a concerned look, but Hermann waves him off, intensely focused on the patterned designs of his plate.

"Er, not really. Not at all, actually," Newt replies, joining Hermann in his very real interest in the artistry of the chinaware. "There wasn't a lot of time between work and... work. Nobody I was interested in, anyway."

"Really?" Vanessa asks, her nails drumming on the table, vibrating the spot where his arm rests. "Nobody at all? Nobody you worked with? A special someone you grew close to?"

Hermann coughs loudly, and Newt hopes he hasn't made the broth too spicy; he knows Hermann is barely capable of anything beyond the mildest of spices.

"Um, I mean, it was just me and Hermann in the lab, for the most part," Newt says, stabbing a mushroom especially hard and nearly cleaving it in two. "So, like I said, there was nobody else to really get to know."

"So, you got to know Hermann," Vanessa says. "Then tell me, what do you think of him?"

"Nessa..." Hermann says. Newt looks up to see a look pass between them, and he shouldn't be able to read it, but he's got their whole marriage inside his head, and parts of it are bound to leak into his unconscious. So, he can read it, and it's a warning, concerned, telling her to not push something... push what?

 _They know_ , Newt thinks. _Fuck, oh god. Of course they know._

"I'd like to know," Vanessa says, looking away from her husband to smile at Newt. "Very much so, I'd like to. I'm always curious about whether other people understand the real you, Hermann."

Newt puts down his skewer, looking between both of them. He has to be so careful, he's going to give everything away and then Hermann will hate him, and Vanessa will think he's a homewrecker and everything will be ruined. But... fuck, he can't lie. He doesn't think he can pass off untruths in this state.

"I think..." Newt begins.

He looks at Hermann, who looks back at him with the same fond smile that he'd shown all those weeks ago, the same trust in Newt's ability to not let him down.

 _Oh, fuck it_ , Newt thinks.

"I think he's pretty brilliant, most of the time," Newt says. "When he can get his head out of his ass and do that 'letting the numbers lead me' thing he's always raving about. People underestimate him and think that he's so ordered and buttoned down that his work must be just as routine or safe, but it's not. He's surprisingly out of the box when you give him a chance. So... yeah. Brilliant."

Newt swallows, unable to look away, because Hermann's eyes are twinkling, and his mouth has split into a wide smile. He's absolutely pleased, and absolutely gorgeous, and Newt is absolutely screwed.

"And dear, what do you think of Newton?" Vanessa asks. If Newt wasn't so star-struck, he might find this line of questioning a little odd, and it's only something he realizes later, much, much later.

"I believe... I believe the world would not be here if not for one Newton Geiszler," Hermann says. "I believe I have been quite privileged to work alongside him for so many years and will be genuinely distressed to see it end. Though I hope our friendship continues long past this."

Newt can't say a damn thing to that.


	4. Chapter 4

Vanessa really wasn't expecting to find herself in this situation, but she finds herself surprisingly undisturbed over it. Maybe other women would be upset finding out that their husband was daft for another fellow, but Vanessa's never let little details like that get in the way of what she wants. And what she wants is to make Hermann happy, while also keeping herself happy.

She can't say she's too disappointed in his choice, either. She likes Newt, she's liked him ever since Hermann began working with him and became the focal point of most of his correspondence - outside of asking her about how she was doing and expressing over and over again how much he missed her. It's hard to be jealous when Hermann is so clearly over the moon for her.

When she first started to suspect that Hermann's feelings for Newt were more than entirely platonic, she read back his letters, thought back over their conversations, and realized that her husband was simply capable of a massive amount of love. Perhaps he's got too much of it to give, an excess he couldn't express during his childhood that he's now found an outlet for as an adult. Or perhaps it's just his nature, to pick out very specific, very special people and devote himself to them, just as he devotes himself to mathematics. No matter. His love for her is strong and true, that much she can say for a fact. So, his love for Newt can't possibly be a threat, unless he got it into his silly head that he had to choose one or the other.

Except, now Vanessa sees that he had gotten that into his head. Hence her need to reassure him otherwise. She really should've talked about this with him earlier, but she wanted to do it face to face, in the same room, where he couldn't run or obfuscate or try to pretend that what's true isn't. She's glad he was so easy to break, so relieved to admit something he's obviously been carrying around for ages, and so willing to trust her reaction. Or maybe he didn't trust it at all, but just couldn't handle the lying anymore.

Poor dear. He's always tried to be good and honest and true to her, perhaps at the expense of his own happiness.

Now they're sitting at their dining table, both of these men fumbling and nervous and entirely obvious about how they feel to anyone with half a brain. It's sweet, really. Newt is flustered and jumpy, and Vanessa would really just like to get to the part where they invite him to join them in a... trio? Thruple? Unusual living arrangement? But Newt needs to be sussed out, courted. Vanessa is about ninety-five to ninety-seven percent sure Newt is as mad for Hermann as her husband is for him. That last three to five percent, however, should be banished before they make a move. And certainly, she's not above showing her own hand and making it know that she'd much prefer a mutual conjoining between three parties, rather than Hermann going off and doing his own thing with each of them. Newt is quite attractive. Vanessa bets those tattoos go all the way down, and then some. She hasn't been with anyone else besides Hermann since they began dating, and the idea of Hermann seeing her enjoy being pleasured by another man... oh, they need to hurry this up, she'd rather not have to change her panties at this point in the evening.

Finally, blessedly, they finish the meal. Hermann says he'll do the clearing up, as according to plan, and Vanessa invites Newt to join her in the living room. They'd agreed that she be the one to ease Newt into the idea, as she's the much better persuader, and Hermann would be too nervous to get the words out right.

Vanessa rests a friendly hand on Newt's shoulder, amused that even without heels, she's a few inches taller than him, level with Hermann's own height. It's kind of cute, this wide-eyed, awe struck man clearly shooting panicked yet desiring looks at her while she leads them into the living room. She can't even be mad that his eyes flick from her face to her chest for the briefest of moments. She's got her own hang-ups about her body, don't most people? And yet he's certainly signaling interest, whether he realizes it or not. It's flattering.

"Come on, let's chat," she says, all smiles and easy words as she draws Newt to sit next to her on the couch. "You know, I'm glad you came with Hermann tonight, Newt. I was so happy to see him, but I was also so happy to see that he's got someone who cares about him taking care of him while I'm off on my travels."

Newt gets this deer-in-the-headlights look that's absolutely adorable. No wonder Hermann fell for him. "I- uh, I mean, yeah, of course. He needs looking after, I'm pretty sure he'd have died of malnutrition or exhaustion if I wasn't on him about taking care of himself. And, er, that probably goes for me too. We're both pretty bad when we're focused."

"I'm really glad for that, Newt," Vanessa says, placing a very light hand on his knee, satisfied when he doesn't pull away. "I'm relieved, honestly. I worry about him so much when I'm gone. But now your work is over, isn't it? Did you have any plans for the future?"

"Um, I mean, we've still got another month or so of clearing out the lab, and I'm pretty sure I've got job offers in my inbox, but I haven't checked my email in like, a week," Newt says.

"I see. So, you're currently unattached, in every sense of the word," Vanessa replies, keeping her voice cool and calm, even though she's feeling quite nervous, now that they're getting into the meat of the conversation.

Newt shrugs, looking down at the hand on his knee.

"Sure," he says. "I guess that's accurate."

"You know, I do mean it, Newt. I'm really quite pleased that Hermann has you to rely on, and I'd hate to see that ending." She squeezes his knee, an affectionate, assuring gesture, to calm his nerves as much as her own. "In fact, I'd be fine if he came to rely on you even more so than he does now."

Newt does look at her then, suspicious written all over his face. "What do you mean? How is that supposed to work?"

Now, the moment of truth. "Newt, have you ever considered the idea that your reliance on one another might not be entirely platonic?"

Newt goes ashen. Oh, she's terrified him, she hadn't meant to do that!

"I don't- I don't-" Newt sputters. "What are you-"

"Nessa?" Hermann is standing in the doorway between the dining and living room, hands pruny from washing dishes. "Is- Newt, are you alright?"

"She-" Newt starts, then stops, then swallows, looking frantically between them both. "I can't- _What's going_ _on_?"

"You've frightened him," Hermann says, lines furrowing his brow. "Blast it, Nessa, I told you this wouldn't work."

"Patience, dear," Vanessa responds, keeping her hand firmly gripped to Newt's knee. "We've got far more information than he does."

"Information?" Newt says, voice going high pitched, slightly hysterical. "What- what _information_? What do you know?"

"Newt, please take a deep breath," Vanessa says. "Don't look at Hermann, look at me, alright? I promise, nothing untoward is happening. I'm simply trying to suss out whether I'm right about your feelings regarding my husband."

This isn't the correct thing to say. She can see it the moment he yanks out of her grip and jolts to his feet.

"What the fuck?" Newt says, hands balling into fists. "Is this- is this some kind of fucking interrogation?"

"Not hardly," Hermann responds. "You'd perform terribly under torture."

"Hermann, _not helping_ ," Vanessa snaps.

"No, you know what, fuck this!" Newt says, snatching his coat from the armchair. Oh, blast it! This is going pear-shaped. "I don't need to take this! I don't need to be made a fool of!"

Vanessa springs up to her feet. "We aren't Newt, please, listen-"

"No!" Newt yells, stumbling back, slinging on the jacket. He looks liable to run out the door, shoeless, into the night. "I can't- I thought you'd both be nice enough to give me the courtesy of getting kicked out quickly, not have shit I can't control rubbed in my face, like, like it's all a hilarious joke to you!" He twists around, heading for the door.

"Hermann, do something!" Vanessa says, because she's completely lost control of the situation.

Hermann moves. She doesn't believe he's even thinking about it, just acting on desperation and pure need. Newt grabs the handle of the front door, trying to yank it open, but Hermann slams his side against the wood, keeping it shut. Then, before Newt can react otherwise, Hermann grabs the collar of Newt's jacket and pulls him close, pressing a soft, barely-present kiss to his lips.

Newt freezes.

Hermann pulls back slowly, and meets Newt's eyes, and oh, oh, that _want_  in his eyes nearly tips her off her own feet, almost sends her spinning as a flare of heat crawls up her spine.

"Newt," Vanessa tries, taking a step towards them. "Newt, please don't go. As you can see, Hermann would be quite miserable if you did."

Newt's voice is so small when he answers. It nearly breaks her heart. "Why... why did you do that?"

Hermann lets go of Newt's collar, worrying his own lip but not stepping away. "Why do you think, Newton?"

Newt glances to Vanessa, then back to Hermann. "I- I don't know," he says, stepping back, his legs bumping the armchair. "I just- I don't."

Vanessa takes another step, which puts her close enough to rest a hand on Newt's arm, very slowly and carefully, so as not to frighten him. "Please sit, Newt. Let us explain."

He's shaking, still bound to flee at a moment's notice. She should've let Hermann talk to him, she realizes it now. Her mistake was trying to ease Newt into this, a way of communicating much different than the blunt words Hermann would've fumbled over, but ultimately, he would've left a very clear impression of what he'd wanted. Now they've got to try a different tactic.

Newt slumps into the armchair, putting his head in his hands. "Why are you doing this? Why... why are you making this harder for me than it already has to be?"

"Oh, Newt, no," Vanessa says, starting to explain.

But suddenly, Hermann is there, dropping to his knees in front of Newt, resting his palms in the crooks of Newt's elbows. There's a boldness to his movements, as she recognizes his resolve coalescing, determination that only comes when he truly wants something. He drops down, and she flashes back to the night he proposed to her, looking up with his expression the most honest and open and vulnerable she'd ever seen him, something she knew he'd only chance if the person was worth it.

Hermann is looking at Newt this way now. He's truly worth it, then.

"Newton, look at me," Hermann says, a command that is not toned as one, more an understanding between old friends. Newt does look up, and Vanessa sees a lifetime of rejection threatening to boil over, all the fearful desire he thinks is forbidden to him. It truly does break her heart, then, to see how badly he's been hurt, how unwilling he is to trust.

And yet here he is, not looking away, putting his trust in Hermann.

"I don't know what you want," Newt says miserably. "You've gotta be honest with me. You're always honest with me."

"No, I'm not," Hermann says. "If I was, I would've told you a long time ago. I'm sorry, Newton. You deserve to know. I want-"

He stops. Vanessa wants to scream the words for him, but this is something he needs to do himself. He needs to get it out, needs to say it, make it real for both of them.

"You want what?" Newt asks.

"I want _you_ ," Hermann says, words tumbling out of him, finally bearing the truth. "That's what I want, Newton. You. Whatever you're willing to give me, just... I can't keep pretending I don't anymore."

Newt's eyes are shining, and he wipes them on his sleeve, cursing low under his breath.

"But, you love your wife," Newt says, glancing over at Vanessa, looking guilty for even doing so. "You love her, Hermann. Don't tell me you don't."

"I do," Hermann says, nodding. "And... and I also love you."

It must be too much for him, the shock of it, because Newt crumples forwards, gasping hard, and Hermann is there, leaning up and wrapping his arms around Newt.

"It's alright," Vanessa says, unable to keep quiet anymore. "I knew. Well, suspected. He admitted it to me tonight. I kind of made him do it. I'm alright with it, Newt, really." She pads over and kneels next to her husband, resting a hand on Newt's knee. "You love him too, don't you?"

Newt is sucking in harsh breaths, and shaking in Hermann's grip, but Vanessa sees the little head nod, the admission he's been too afraid to give.

"See?" Vanessa continues, stroking soothing circles into Newt's knee. "Nothing wrong then. You're both of the same mind about your feelings. It's quite lovely, actually. Hermann's glorious to be in love with, I should know." She smiles at the muted, watery laugh that Newt makes, choked through the quiet crying she's too nice to point out.

Hermann is stroking a hand up and down Newt's back, shifting side to side. Vanessa knows his hip can't possibly be comfortable in this position, so she gives Newt's knee a tap with her finger. He looks up at her with ruddy, red eyes.

"As nice as this is," Vanessa says, "I believe my dear husband isn't going to complain about his hip until it's liable to give out. That said, the couch could hold all three of us quite nicely. Would you mind if we moved over?"

Newt sniffs and nods. Vanessa pushes to her feet and grips Hermann under the arm, and she and Newt lever her husband up, walking in a six-legged bunch over to the couch and collapsing on it, Newt in the middle, Hermann and Vanessa on either side.

"This is insane," Newt says, wiping his eyes. Hermann's arm comes up to rest across his shoulders, and she's glad to see he doesn't pull away, rather, he leans into it. "Fuck, how are you okay with this? I'm in love with your husband and you're just, like, cool with it?"

"As you said, Newt, he loves me. Very dearly, I would say," Vanessa says, smiling at the fond look Hermann gives her. "That hasn't changed, and I don't expect it to. As long as that's not in any danger, then no, I don't have a problem."

"As I have indicated to you before, Newton, she's an astounding woman," Hermann says. She grins at him, his loving look seeping into her bones and driving the chill of the rainy night from her body, replacing it with a very specific kind of warmth, that she's hoping she can put to use later.

"Fuck that, Herms," Newt says. He smiles at her then, and it twists something funny in her chest. "She's the coolest fucking woman on the planet."

Vanessa laughs, and then risks putting her own arm over Newt's shoulder, atop Hermann's. He goes a bit wide-eyed, but the happy, twitching smile he's wearing doesn't fade. "I'm not going to say no to praise from two very attractive, intelligent men. Please, go on about my brilliance."

"You know I could do that all day, dear," Hermann says. "But perhaps we should discuss what this all means, yes?"

"Yeah, what does it mean?" Newt asks, looking back to Hermann. "Like... okay. I love you, and you love me. Fuck, that's so amazing when I say it out loud. Um, but where do we go from here?"

"I was honest, earlier," Vanessa says, her hand stroking back and forth across Hermann's upper arm. He gives her a pointed look, like he knows exactly what she's doing, but she doesn't acknowledge it. "I'm pleased that Hermann has someone else who loves him and cares for him like I do. It makes me feel a little less guilty about always going off for months at a time."

"I've told you and told you," Hermann says. "Your work is just as important as mine. I knew going in what to expect."

"Perhaps," Vanessa agrees. "But I don't think you really understood how lonely it might get. And Newt, you keep him from being lonely. You support him and make him feel wanted and needed when I'm too far away to really do that. So, I was thinking. I'm not particularly tied to any place when it comes to where we live. I'm away from home often enough that I'd rather let Hermann choose somewhere he's going to be happy, so when I found out you'd closed the Breach, I expected he'd be considering academic offers and picking one of them. I also assume that's what you plan to do. Am I correct?"

"Yeah, that's probably what'd end up happening," Newt admits. "The after-effects of the Kaiju are going to need to be studied for decades to come, whether or not they ever come back. If I've got samples, I can do that pretty much anywhere."

"Fantastic," Vanessa says. She loves when things work out so perfectly. "So, what if you both looked at your offers and picked the same place? You could go together."

"Admittedly, even if this hadn't occurred, I might've suggested that myself," Hermann says. He presses a kiss to Newt's forehead, smiling when Newt flushes. "I'm not sure I could bear being half a world away from you, bad enough I have to spend that long away from Nessa."

"That could work," Newt says. His hand has found its way down to cup Hermann's opposite one, and he's leaning farther back into the couch, much more relaxed than before. "Boston and Berlin are the obvious choices, but we can see what's come our way. Maybe I could get a place in the same building as you both."

"I have a slightly different option," Vanessa says. "Why not stay with us?"

Hermann looks at her sharply. "That's not something we discussed. You'd be alright with that?"

"Dear, I'm alright with the idea of you shagging another person, this isn't too much farther to stretch," Vanessa says. Really, sometimes he's three steps behind her. "Besides, we're still fairly young and cities are expensive. There's no point in spending extra money when he's going to be in our space all the time anyways. It'll just be _all_ of our space."

"A spare room, then?" Newt asks. "I mean, look, even if we're doing this, this thing, me and Hermann, I don't want to intrude on what you guys have together. That's not fair to you, Vanessa."

Vanessa smiles. Newt is more thoughtful than Hermann gives him credit for. Still, it's her turn to make her intentions clearer, and see what he thinks.

"Well, that is an option, although I've been considering another one," she says, slipping her fingers across the curve of Hermann's elbow, until they brush the side of Newt's neck. He shivers and jerks, eyes flicking over to her fingers, then back to her face, then down, seemingly to only now realize that her kneeling position is putting her chest at his eye level.

 _Ah, there_ , she thinks. Face flushing, pupils dilating, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. That's the same way Hermann looks at her the moment before he makes a move.

"Yeah?" Newt asks, looking back up at her. "What's that?"

Vanessa leans in, seeing Hermann shift out of the corner of her eye, his expression anticipating, excited to see what she'll do. She doesn't lean too much, just enough to be farther into Newt's personal space than is usual for your best mate's wife.

"Well," she says. "If you'd really like to keep everything sequestered - my relationship with him and your relationship with him - you are free to do so. But I wouldn't necessarily be opposed to blurring those boundaries and seeing where we all land." She smiles, letting her eyelids droop, looking at Newt beneath her lashes in a way she's always known Hermann to like. She's pleased to see and hear the way he responds: a sharp breath inwards, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, looking at hers like he aches to taste them. "I've quite enjoyed your company this evening, and you're an attractive fellow. Besides, Hermann's always wanted an excuse to get a king-sized bed, haven't you, dear?"

"That I have," Hermann mutters in Newt's ear, his teeth grazing the shell of it. "I'll admit, the idea of seeing you both together, the two people I love the most, giving each other pleasure... it's not an unappealing idea." He's obviously getting turned on by imagining it, a flush creeping up his neck, his hands shifting and ghosting across any of Newt's exposed skin he can find, even slipping one underneath the hem of Newt's shirt to brush across his stomach.

"Yes," Newt breathes out, nodding his head so rapidly that Vanessa lets out peals of laughter. "Shit... Jesus, Vanessa, you're sweet and funny and smart and _super fucking hot_ ," he finishes, shades of crimson by this point, breath speeding up as Hermann's fingertips continue to find skin to tease. "Yeah. I'd be completely fine with that."

Vanessa bites her tongue, a relieved grin threatening to split apart her mouth. She's so happy that Newt is taking this all in stride and seems just as interested in exploring a connection between himself and herself as she is. She leans in farther and gives him a quick peck, chuckling at the startled but pleased gasp he lets out.

"Call me Nessa, please," she says, drawing back. "If we're going to be shagging, I'd prefer it. Now then, bedroom?"


	5. Chapter 5

Newt is sitting on Hermann's marital bed, naked but for his boxers and glasses, and if Hermann hadn't literally pinched himself a few moments ago, just to make sure, he would insist he's dreaming.

They'd adjourned to the bedroom, and Vanessa had suggested Newt get comfortable. He'd shucked off his clothes so fast, he'd almost tripped and gone head over heels into their dressers, until Nessa had caught Newt's arm and snickered and called him an eager tart in a low, sensuous tone, and the way they looked at each other made Hermann's cock pulse and continue its already begun journey to full hardness.

Now she's lounging in the armchair near the bed, bra unhooked and tossed over the back, pants kicked off, only her t-shirt and panties remaining. She smiles lazily up at Hermann as he unbuttons his shirt, and he leans down to press a kiss to her jaw, satisfied with the little happy squeal she lets out. In his peripheral vision, he sees Newt palm himself, obviously eager to begin.

"You're not going to join us?" Hermann asks as he stands back up, draping his shirt over the chair. He unbuttons his jeans and shimmies out of them, toeing off one sock and then bracing himself against the arm of the chair to remove the other, putting as little weight on his bad leg as he can.

"I've had a very long flight," Nessa says, legs up over the opposite arm of the chair. She's skimming her hands up and down her thighs, and Hermann notices the wet patch that's visible in the center of her panties. She must've been thinking about this for quite a while, long before they'd begun their teasing foreplay in the living room. Lord, she's a wonder. "I'm feeling quite lazy. I'll join you later, but for now, I'd like a little show."

"Oh, Jesus," Newt says, his hand sliding under the band of his boxers. "Jesus fuck, Nessa." Hermann feels a thrill down his spine, hearing Newt call his wife by her nickname, refer to her with lust tinging his voice so unabashedly. 

"You're allowed to ask for whatever you'd like, for making this happen," Hermann says, smoothing a hand down her cheek. "I mean it, Nessa. Thank you."

"You're happy, and I'm quite chuffed," Nessa responds, winking at him. "I'd say we're all getting what we want, aren't you?"

Hermann grins and taps her nose. "That we are. So, this is your show, direct us how you will." He looks back at Newt, and there's such a need in his eyes, how has Hermann never realized it before? "Tell me what you'd like me to do to him."

Vanessa's laugh tinkles gently through his ear. "Alright. For right now, I'd just like you to push him down onto that bed and kiss him senseless. I want to see him begging for you, dear."

" _Jesus_ ," Newt gasps, eyes wide and pupils black with desire. "Fuck, _yes_."

"Looks like he's already begun," Hermann replies, striding over to the mattress. He crawls up onto it, letting his cane drop to the ground. He grabs Newt by the shoulders and pushes him over, landing in a heap atop him, their bodies pressed flush together. Newt moans and Hermann cuts it off with a searing kiss, rolling his hips together and feeling a thick, firm weight press against his thigh. The fabric covering the tip is already damp with want.

Bloody _Christ_ , that's because of him. Because Newt wants him. He's going to cry, with how lovely that makes him feel.

Hermann tends to Newt's mouth with hungry kisses, nipping and licking and learning what will make Newt whimper, making note of it and filing it away for later. His hands come up behind Newt's head, holding him steady and still, as he continues to ravish Newt's mouth, years and years of want exploding outwards in a fiery encounter that leaves them both gasping for air. Newt's hips snap up, grinding against his own, as if he can't bear for any part of their bodies not to be touching. Newt's hands find their way down to grip Hermann's waist, heat blossoming wherever he touches.

When Hermann comes up for air, he glances back to see Nessa sitting up, staring at them intensely. Her mouth is parted in a little 'O' and she's got one hand shoved beneath the fabric of her panties. He can tell she's working her thumb, playing with herself, by the way her knuckle presses out the fabric every few moments. She catches his eye and grins.

"You're gorgeous, darling," she says. "Both of you. I don't think I'll be staying away for very long."

He grins back as Newt gasps his name, clearly distressed by his sudden changed attention.

"It's alright, _mein Schatz_ ," Hermann says, looking back at Newt. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

He knows this is something they'll all have to get used to; they can't possibly focus their entire energy on both their partners at once. Newt might be insecure and afraid of rejection, so Hermann and Nessa will just have to show him he's got nothing to fear.

"You- you called me your treasure?" Newt says, mouth open and expression shocked.

"Is... is there something wrong with that?" Hermann asks. Did a previous partner use that term? Somebody who treated him poorly?

Newt shakes his head, grabbing Hermann's shoulders.

" _Do it again_ ," he breathes.

" _Mein Schatz_ ," Hermann mumbles, peppering kisses down Newt's jaw. " _Liebling._  My love." He smiles in satisfaction at the moan Newt lets out, pitching high and wanton. It's still utterly amazing that he's doing this to the other man, that Newt is making all these needy, mindless noises because of how very badly he wants Hermann. And over in the armchair, Nessa's eyes are still locked to him every time he glances back, a hungry look on her face that threatens to send her sprinting for the bed.

 _Mein Gott_ , Hermann thinks. _I'm the object of desire, I'm the one they're both here for._  

He's scraping his teeth over the pulse point on Newt's neck when he hears footsteps padding over to the bed. Nessa bends low, and he can see through the opening of her shirt, the way her breasts are pressed together by her arms coming forward to lean against the mattress. They make a delectable line of cleavage, and he can't help but lean over and draw his tongue up the center, feeling the shiver that runs through her body.

"Pull him up to the headboard and put him in your lap," Nessa says, cupping his jaw and pressing her thumb against his bottom lip. She kisses him softly, heat in her eyes. "I want to see how good you can make him feel with just your hands and your mouth."

Hermann shudders and nods, sliding off of Newt. His eyes are glazed, and his chest is flushed amber, his hands dragging down his own skin like he's looking for something to cling to.

"I'm not gonna make it," Newt pants. "It's been too long since I've been with someone..."

"You'll be quite alright," Hermann chides, twisting to scoot back against the headboard. He sinks into a dozen pillows of various sizes and shapes; a multitude of possibilities to help support his hip in whatever position he might need. Then he slides his boxers down, kicking them off and settling back. He spreads his legs out, grabbing Newt's shoulders and hauling him up to sit between Hermann's open legs, his back pressed flush to Hermann's front. Hermann's cock is aching to enter him, but for now, he holds Newt's hips and grinds forward, feeling the crest of Newt's backside against his prick. Newt moans and drops his head back against Hermann's shoulder, and Hermann swallows the moan in a possessive kiss.

Nessa sits cross legged on the bed in front of them. She's taken off her panties, exposing the neatly trimmed patch of hairs curled atop her mons pubis, a glistening wetness trailing from her slit. Hermann has the urge to reach out, press his fingers into her, so he can draw them back and taste her, but she did give him a task to focus on. Newt is panting and squirming against him, and Herman reaches down to help Newt clamber out of his own boxers, exposing his pink, lovely cock, long and thick. Hermann wants to taste it, take it down his throat. Perhaps later.

For now, Hermann grasps him by the shaft and strokes up. Newt arches back, his nails digging into Hermanns thighs as Hermann strokes him up and down, starting a steady rhythm. He finds a spot on Newt's neck that's easy to kiss and lick and gently bite, and he works it over, Newt's needy cries music to his ears. His other hand trails freely across Newt's chest, pausing to drag his thumb over a nipple, then moving to brush his fingers down the center of Newt's stomach, before curling into the fine hairs at the base of Newt's cock. Newt doesn't stop squirming, can't seem to keep himself together, liable to shatter into pieces under Hermann's hands: one firm and sure, the other gentle and teasing.

"Hermann, I can't," Newt pleads, rolling his hips up. "I told you, been too long, need you to slow down, oh _fuck_ ," he moans, as Hermann swipes his thumb around the head of Newt's cock.

"He likes seeing you like this, Newt," Vanessa says. She's got two fingers pushed into herself, her thumb working steady circles against her clit, and her chest is heaving with little gasps. "We both do. You're insatiable, aren't you? I can't wait to see what you're capable of. Oh, Hermann, you should make him come," she says, her eyes alighting with an idea. "Get him off once, so he'll be able to last longer next time. Then he can take care of us while he's getting hard again."

"This is why I married her, _liebling_ ," Hermann mumbles in Newt's ear, his strokes unabating. "She's got the best ideas."

Newt lets out a desperate laugh and nods his head, twisting around to catch Hermann's lips.

"Do it," Newt pleads against his mouth. "Do what she says, _please_."

So, Hermann does. He wraps his free arm around Newt's waist, bites down on the crook of his neck, and gives his cock short, firm strokes, until he hears Newt cry out, feels wet heat splattering over his knuckles, and Newt's body seizes against him.

" _Hermann!_ " Newt shouts, a cracked and broken sound, shattered apart, just as Hermann had predicted. He shakes and arches for a good ten seconds, and then slumps against Hermann's chest, his lower body trembling though the aftershocks.

"That was amazing," Nessa says, panting softly. Her forehead is sheered with sweat, her eyes glossy with lust. "How do you feel, Newt?"

"Fucking _awesome_ ," Newt moans. "Fuck. Okay. Who am I going down on first?"

Nessa meets Hermann's look with a grin, as Hermann leans to mutter in Newt's ear. "I want to watch you put your tongue in my wife's cunt, Newton. I want to see your mouth wet with her pleasure."

"Holy shit," Newt says, nodding rapidly. "Holy shit, yes. I want that too, oh my god."

"I heard that," Nessa says, snickering and dragging her shirt up over her head in one fell swoop, exposing her full, rounded breasts to the cool air, nipples perked and hardened. "Hermann, be a dear and move him down the bed for me. This will probably work best if I'm against the headboard."

They shift around positions, until Nessa is lying back against the pillows, Newt on his stomach in front of her, staring at her cunt. Hermann straddles Newt's upper thighs, a pillow under his knee to help give more cushioning for his bad hip. It puts Hermann's cock in the perfect spot to grind into the cleft of Newt's ass, and he does so, biting back the moan he wants to let out because it feels so _good_. He's going to need to let Newt have a moment to recover, he's bound to be too tight right after an orgasm, but in a few minutes... well, Nessa has already tossed him the lube, and he can tell she's just as eager to see it as he is to do it.

"I haven't eaten out a lady in a while," Newt admits, resting on his elbows, looking up at Nessa. "You an alphabet sort of lady? Or should I stick with circles and lines up and down?"

"I'm not too particular," Nessa says, stroking a hand through Newt's hair. "If it's good, you'll know. If it's not, I'll tell you."

Newt grins and nods, leaning up into her touch. It's such a soft thing that it gives Hermann pause. He was concerned, going into this, that Nessa would be wrong, and they'd find that she and Newt aren't compatible, but it seems like his worry was unnecessary. Newt's looking at her like she's a bloody goddess, and Nessa's looking back with the wry fondness she usually only directs to Hermann.

"Are you alright, dear?" Nessa says, and Hermann realizes she's talking to him, because he's staring so hard at the both of them. Newt twists his head back to also meet his gaze.

"Absolutely perfect, my loves," Hermann replies. He grins at the blush that crosses Newt's face. "Go on, then, Newton. I told you what I wanted to see."

Newt swallows and nods, twisting back around. Nessa scoots a bit farther down, and Newt grips her thighs, leaning forward. His head is blocking some of the view, but when Nessa lets out a pleased, low moan, Hermann knows that Newt has found what he's searching for.

Hermann studies how his wife is affected, guessing as to what Newt is doing by the flickers of emotion and expressions of pleasure that cross Nessa's face. Her eyes flutter shit, her lips part and her tongue wets them. She gasps loudly, both her hands grabbing tufts of Newt's hair and pushing downwards.

"Oh, Hermann, he's _good_ ," Nessa says, laughing through a gasp. "You've gone and found a good one. Let's keep him."

Hermann chuckles at that, grinding down into Newt's cleft, pleased with the muffled squeak the other man makes. He thrusts against Newt several times, trying to be patient, to make sure Newt is relaxed enough where Hermann won't hurt him. He so badly doesn't want to hurt Newt.

Finally, he feels like it must be long enough, and he pops the cap on the bottle of lube, drizzling a large puddle into his palm. He tosses the bottle aside and coats nearly his whole hand, resting it just above Newt's entrance.

"I'm going to prep you now, _mein Schatz_ ," Hermann says. "Let me know if it's too much, I don't want you pretending you can take it if you can't, understand?"

Nessa grips Newt's hair, lifting his head for a moment, though she seems remiss to stop him from teasing her with his mouth.

"Answer him," she says, panting. "Let him know you're alright."

"It- it's fine," Newt says, his own breath quick and unsteady. "Think I'm getting hard again, anyway."

With that confirmed, Nessa pushes Newt back down, sticking her tongue out at Hermann when he chuckles and shoots her a knowing look.

"Oh s-sod off, Hermann," Nessa says. "You've got his arse and I've got his mouth. We can switch later if you'd like."

The noise Newt makes is questioning, confused.

"Oh, we didn't tell you, did we?" Nessa says, rolling up against his face. "Sometimes, Hermann asks me to bugger him. We've got quite the nice collection, several options of different shapes and sizes. Maybe another time, I can bugger you while his cock is down your throat."

Newt moans so hard, Hermann snorts and shakes with laughter.

"Don't overwhelm him, dear," Hermann says, wiping a tear from his eye. "We've only just gotten him."

When he presses the first finger into Newt's body, the man clenches down, and Hermann has to stroke smooth, calming circles into his hip to get him to loosen up. Hermann works him open slowly, one knuckle at a time. He can't tell if the sounds of pleasure Newt is making are because of being stretched, or because he's enjoying being face down in Nessa's cunt. Perhaps it's both. God, he hopes it's both. By the time Hermann gets a whole second finger into him and stretches him enough to be penetrated, Newt is squirming just as badly as before.

Nessa pulls Newt's head up again to hear him babbling a stream of pleas for Hermann to get on with it and fuck him. Nessa gives Hermann a nod and holds Newt's shoulders while Hermann grips his waist, lines himself up, and pushes in. Newt squeals and bucks and is smart enough to dig his fingers into the mattress instead of Nessa's thighs. When Hermann is seated to the base of his shaft, fully buried, they all pause for a moment to let Newt adjust.

"How does it feel?" Nessa asks.

" _Wonderful_ ," both Hermann and Newt say at the same time.

Then Hermann begins to move, relishing the rapid bearing down and release Newt performs at each thrust into his body. Newt is so bloody tight, a vice around Hermann's cock, the friction burning a sharp pleasure through his nerves. Newt makes such sweet, delicious noises for him, all muffled by his being tongue-deep in Nessa's body, but that only heightens Hermann's arousal.

Hermann imagines how good it must feel, imagines himself in Newt's position, face buried in his wife's cunt while Newt thrusts into him, and knows he'd like to try it soon. As he is, the tightness of Newt's body sends glorious little shivers up his spine, and the way Newt bends and arches and moves under Hermann's touch, god, it's indescribable. Hermann wants to stay buried in him for hours, wants to tease him and pleasure him, make him feel so good, make him understand that he's safe, he's loved, he belongs to their little family now. They'll have to talk, have to explain it afterwards. For now, he keeps thrusting, keeps claiming Newt for himself the only way he can.

Whatever Newt has been doing to Nessa, he must still be doing it right, because her gasps are getting louder, her moans are pitching higher, and Hermann can tell she's winding her way up to a damned powerful orgasm. She lets out a sudden cry of "yes, Newt, yes!" and Hermann watches, entranced, as her back arches up, her knuckles clenched so tight as to shake, her eyes wide and shocked with pleasure. She keeps keening, "yes, yes!" over and over, until she's practically sobbing it, slumping back and stroking a hand through Newt's hair.

"Oh, you lovely man," Nessa mumbles. "That was exquisite. I'm going to have to repay you somehow."

"I've an idea," Hermann says. He pulls out of Newt quite suddenly, ignoring Newt's displeased cry as he grips Newt's hips and flips him over. He adjusts the pillow under his hip, pausing when he sees how Newt's lower face is glistening wet, lips bruised a deep red, his pupils dilated near black. "Gorgeous," Hermann mumbles, leaning over him and kissing him, moaning as Nessa's familiar taste mingles with Newt's new one. Then he sits back and pushes Newt's legs up, thrusting back into him.

Newt yelps and clings to the sheets. His cock is hard again, leaking a thin trail of pre-come that hangs off the tip and drizzles against his chest.

"Nessa," Hermann gasps. "Be a dear and jerk him off."

"Wait, _what_?" Newt squeaks.

"Oh, good idea," Nessa replies, sitting up and scooting forwards. She slides down the bed until Newt's head is between her legs, and then helps him push up on his hands so she can scoot every closer, until he's lying back, his head pillowed between her breasts. He's bunched up between them, bent in two as Hermann drives into him. Nessa's hands come down around Newt's waist, and her talented fingers (Hermann is _quite_  the expert on her talents in that department) grip around Newt's cock, starting to stroke.

"Sh-shit!" Newt cries. "Hermann... oh, oh _fuck!_ "

Newt can't seem to do more than gasp and curse at this point, letting Hermann spread him wide and plunge deep into his body. He's boneless against Nessa's chest while she works his cock, and he's starting to clench up tighter with each thrust. Hermann has the feeling he's not far off from another orgasm. That's good, because Hermann is also closing in on release.

So, he grunts and thrusts and focuses on the way his wife's hands glide over Newt's cock, the feeling of Newt's thighs trembling in his grip, the broken, half-sobs echoing from Newt's throat.

 _He's so open for me_ , Hermann thinks, panting and snapping his hips faster. _Like no one's ever been this good to him before._

And Hermann realizes that no one probably has.

That thought. That's what does it. With an eager groan, Hermann thrusts a few more stuttering times, his orgasm curling up his spine like a cleansing flame roaring up a tunnel.

Nessa keeps stroking Newt through Hermann's orgasm, kissing the top of his head, mumbling something into his ear. Hermann catches the end of it as his breathing quiets down, hearing her mutter, "-good boy, taking his cock like that... won't you come for me, darling? You good, good boy."

Newt lets out a keening sob, and Hermann feels a splash of wet heat against his stomach as Newt comes again.

 _Praise_ , Hermann thinks, panting. _Of course, he loves to be praised. God, he's never gotten enough of it, has he? We're going to change that._

All three of them stay still for a good half minute, gasping for breath and coming down from their respective peaks. Hermann is the first to move, slipping slowly out of Newt to avoid hurting him. Newt lets out a satisfied huff, falling back against the sheets as Nessa slides out from behind him. She lays down against Newt's back, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, as Hermann lies down in front, cupping Newt's cheek and pulling him into a soft kiss.

"Alright?" Hermann asks, watching Newt's eyelids flutter down, satisfied exhaustion evident in his expression.

"Mmmm," Newt mutters. "More than." He smiles, a gorgeous expression that Hermann loves to see directed at himself and loves even more now that he knows the emotions and desire behind it.

"You were splendid," Nessa says, nuzzling her face against Newt's shoulder. "You both were, my lovely boys."

"Thank you, Nessa," Hermann says. He means it for everything: for tonight, for every year of their life together before, and for giving him a future he hadn't expected to have but is so grateful to receive.

She smiles back at him, nodding. "Are you happy, Hermann?"

"I'm at a loss for words," he replies. "I never... I never thought I could have this. So, yes. I'm happy."

Nessa chuckles, leaning up over Newt to kiss Hermann slowly, tenderly.

"Good," she says when she pulls back. "I'm quite pleased with how this has turned out. It certainly won't always be as easy as it was tonight. Everything's going to change, and we're going to have to adjust. But I think it could be worth it, don't you?"

"Yes," Hermann responds. He strokes a hand through Newt's hair, watching as the other man starts to drift off. "You're both worth it to me."

The Kaiju are gone. Vanessa is home. And so is Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everybody who took a chance on this OT3 or just genuinely likes it. I hope you enjoyed it! This is the end for now, I might write more in the future but I feel like this is a complete story as is.


End file.
